


Somewhere, Something Changed (But I Still Hate You)

by StormySkyLeaf



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Before/During TFA, Biting, Blood, Consensual Violence, Hate Sex, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 12:46:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9272420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormySkyLeaf/pseuds/StormySkyLeaf
Summary: They had a mutually beneficial relationship based on hate, violence and not much else. For months, it worked.And then something changed. Something that doesn't have a name and feels wrong andoverwhelming.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by some of sinfullucifer's headcanons today and wrote this. It has no redeeming properties of any kind and I have to admit that it's the first time I write a hateship.
> 
> **Warnings for:** Blood, consensual infliction of pain, biting, unhealthy relationships, hate sex, and possibly some other things. The rating is E to be safe, not because the story is very explicit (in my opinion).
> 
> Hopefully, Kylo Ren and General Hux are not too OOC. I have seen the movie, but I have not read any of the comics, so... If there are inconsistencies with their characters, I apologize.
> 
> This is un-beta'ed. Any mistakes are mine and I would be thankful to anyone willing to point them out so that I can get rid of them.

There had never been anything tender to their relationship. It wasn’t the point. The point was for them to relieve some stress and to continue doing their job. Being General was something Armitage Hux excelled at, but it wasn’t a job without stress-inducing challenges (Kylo Ren being one of them).

 

As for Ren, well… Fucking seemed to have an inverse relationship with the amount of consoles destroyed in a month; the more they had sexual encounters of any kind, the less likely that overgrown brat was to destroy material that was costly to replace (the budget had limits, after all).

 

So it was a beneficial relationship. They met up, they fucked each other up in the best ways possible, then they went on their way, nothing more said, nothing else meant. Hux would ease his stress; Ren would scratch whatever itch had made him an angry ball of spitfire that day.

 

For months, it worked. Outside of their sexual encounters, their relationship was the same as usual. They would exchange barbs, taunt each other to the point of anger. Sometimes, they would even attack each other (Ren, usually, so _wild_ and reckless, without an inch of the unflinching control Hux displayed without an effort) They were fuelled by their hate towards each other and it showed in every facet of their reluctant relationship.

 

It _had_ worked for months.

 

Somewhere along the way, something had _changed_.

 

It wasn’t the stress. Hux had his shoulders bunched up in knots all the time, although the pinching sensation was a background sensation after all this time, just another fact about his body. Ren was as high strung as ever, pissy, prissy, and adding even more stress and papers to Hux’s workload.

 

It wasn’t the job. If the General had anything to say about it, he did his work as well as ever, flawlessly and efficiently (even with the extra paperwork). Ren threw his tantrums left and right as he pleased and somehow made himself slightly useful to the First Order along the way. Same as before.

 

It wasn’t the violence. It was still there, visible in the bruises and blood covering their skin under restrictive black clothing, stinging remnants of what they did in bed. It showed in Ren’s every move. It was repressed, but gave an edge to Hux’x decisions. They were violent beings by nature.

 

It wasn’t even the hate. Their voices still dripped with venom whenever they spoke to each other. Ren would spit or snarl or snap; Hux would drone something mean – but usually true – in answer, and then watch the fool get mad about it. In bed, they would demean each other. They would attempt to rip each other apart. Then one of them (usually Hux, because he had more pressing matters to attend to) would leave without a word, leaving only warm blood and cold air behind.

 

That was the arrangement. That was how they worked. That was the _only_ way they could live in close quarters and not kill each other.

 

But something was different. Had changed in the months they had spent fucking and hating each other.

 

At some point, they had started lingering a bit after the act, just to make sure that the other was still fit for duty (because things would be awkward to explain to Snoke if one of his favorite pets ended up in Medbay for no obvious reason).

 

Ren’s mask filtered whatever weirdness his voice may have, but Hux _did not_ have a mask. As much as they got aroused by choking the other, it did not befit the General to croak at his soldiers. Nor did it befit a Knight of Ren to limp around the ship on a dislocated hip – apparently, falling out of bed onto a metal floor while being fucked did a number on hipbones.

 

So limits had to be set.

 

(And maybe that’s when Hux should have put a stop to this. When they started actively organizing their sexual encounters and putting rules on them.)

 

But everything had come so gradually that Hux would be hard pressed to pinpoint when, exactly, he had started getting a bit too involved with his arch nemesis.

 

Maybe it was when he had sent an obscure message to Ren, for the first time setting a meeting time and place instead of simply waiting for the other outside either of their cabins.

 

Maybe it was when he had declared that, as General, he could not go around giving orders with a thin, breathy voice and a ring of purple around this throat that peeked above his collar.

 

Maybe it was when Ren had declared, after getting his hip set, that investing in carpets or bigger beds might be a sound idea if they were to keep fucking like animals. Maybe it was when Hux had agreed.

 

Maybe it was when carpets started making their apparition on board, much to the quiet delight of some of the officers, those who showed weakness in the face of cold.

 

(The _Finalizer_ was _not_ cold. Its environmental controls were set at perfect performance temperature. Cool enough to keep those on duty awake and efficient.)

 

Maybe it was when Hux had noticed that, apart from a few wholly unsatisfying encounters, he had been having sex exclusively with Ren for the past few months.

 

Maybe it was when he had noticed that Millicent, aloof and independent as she may be, had started accepting caresses from Ren. Although that _had to_ be the treats he kept slipping her behind her owner’s back. Millie was the most loyal creature on this spaceship and Hux was her favorite, he knew.

 

Maybe, maybe, maybe…

 

Point was that he did not know. He could not say.

 

And it was too late to turn back.

 

Oh, he had tried. He had declared that the arrangement was no longer beneficial; it wasn’t. Not with that something different that dodged at Hux’s mind persistently, even when he was working. Ren had gotten mad, which had come as no surprise at all, then gone on a rampage, destroying ten consoles in that one fit of rage.

 

The damage had been repaired and Ren had been sent off ship for a month, off on some mission of his. There had been no news of him for that full month and Hux had kept banishing the unsettling feeling that his ‘Good riddance’ was not as heartfelt as it should have been. When Ren had come back, intact and as annoying as ever, Hux had ignored the request for a nightly meet-up and refused entry to anyone. Millicent’s purrs had just been loud enough to cover the angry pounding on his door.

 

Another rampage. Another set of consoles destroyed. Ren had been allowed exactly five days to sulk in his cabin and in front of the ashbox before Hux had gotten exasperated and dragged him to the closest quarters (Ren’s, messy, disorganized, but sufficient). He had given him a thorough trashing, and gotten thoroughly trashed in return, and it had been _extremely_ satisfying.

 

“Why?” Ren had asked afterwards, his voice faint and croaky. He had been lying on his stomach, his ass redder than Hux’s hair, his neck blossoming blue and purple in the shape of the General’s hands.

 

Hux had wiped the blood from his arms, shoulders and neck, and had allowed Ren to wipe his back for him. “I still hate you,” he had muttered back. Not an answer, and yet the only answer that seemed appropriate.

 

The faintest thread of laughter had escaped Ren. “I’m well aware. The sentiment is returned.”

 

It had not helped. Just like that, things had gone back to the way they were before. Back to the venom and the violence. Back to that little niggling sensation that whatever had changed remained.

 

Even now, as Hux printed his teeth’s relief into Ren’s thigh, that annoying feeling lingered. Above him, Ren groaned lowly in his throat and something hot and vicious flared in Hux’s gut. He set his teeth even deeper, until Ren cried out and grabbed fistfuls of ginger hair, tugging harshly, making Hux clench his jaw until they were stuck in a vicious cycle of tighter-and-more-painful, until flavor burst across Hux’s tongue. Ren bit through his lip to muffle a shout and ripped hair out, making Hux snarl a curse around the bleeding flesh.

 

He could not have explained what made him release said flesh to press lips to the wound instead of abusing it even more. Kylo, panting above him, gentled a hand over his mussed up hair and stinging scalp rather than tugging on it some more.

 

“Oww…” Kylo’s hand clenched in a patch of hair that had not yet been abused. “Do it again.”

 

Hux grinned sharply, heat flaring again, and let his teeth catch on the wound; Kylo’s thigh twitched away from his mouth. He dug his nails in and followed the movement. After a short moment of nothingness, during which anticipation made Kylo curl on himself, Hux bit again, higher, into the twitching muscle near his hipbone.

 

Kylo whined. He released Hux’s hair to dig ten pointy brands into the middle of his back and _clawed_ at the skin, making the pressure increase, another vicious cycle of increasing pain until skin gave, blood painting Hux’s mouth and Kylo’s nails in scarlet.

 

“Yes, come on,” the Knight hissed, vocal and demanding as always. “Another.”

 

Hux peered at him and let his gaze wander over the pale canvas that was mottled blue and slicked red. He narrowed on a patch of skin, just under Kylo’s ribs, that was somewhat clean and set his teeth there next, hissing around it when Kylo’s fingers dugs in his shoulders, nails catching on the fresh cuts.

 

But his attention wavered. The feeling was growing uncomfortably, hot and powerful and _overwhelming_ , threatening Hux’s control. Even digging his own fingers in Ren’s already marked hips did not help him focus.

 

There was a tremor building in his muscles and it took Ren’s confused “Hux?” to make him aware that he was shaking.

 

He growled and bit harshly into the flesh under his mouth to avoid answering. Ren cried out and curled on himself, around Hux’s head, the big hand that had returned to his hair keeping him pressed against the bleeding skin. It was only when he let go that he was freed. Ren fell back on the rumpled bed, his hand wandering to the new wound, while Hux investigated his hair, finding wetness in the strands and seeing it red on his fingers.

 

“Hux…” Ren started to say, before the ginger-haired man slapped a hand - the bloody one - over his mouth and squeezed to the point of pain; Ren’s eyebrows twitched and his back arched slightly.

 

“I still hate you,” Hux murmured ferociously and he ignored the widening dark eyes in favor of removing his hand and devouring Ren’s bitten lips.

 

Things got heated fast and they fell back into a familiar rhythm of fucking and ripping skin, their hips slamming together, bruises pressed on top of bruises, teeth clacking together gracelessly and catching on split lips. Hux took and took, Kylo under him, not passive but not actively fighting for dominance either, his eyes fever-bright and dark with a special kind of madness. This was their usual: a deliberately painful rush towards orgasm.

 

And yet, the unsettling feeling lingered, showing randomly in softer kisses, in licks instead of bites. The taste of iron lingering on Hux’s tongue did not banish it, nor did the sudden pressure of an invisible hand curling around the base of his throat. He moaned and Kylo moaned, and it was hard to say who came first as they rested against each other, trembling in the aftermath.

 

It was quiet for a few minutes, their panting the only sound filling the air. Millicent jumped on the stained bedcovers with a soft meow, sniffing and then licking Kylo’s bloody fingertips. Hux hid a smile when the fingers twitched in surprise, then obediently stayed still for the cat to clean them up. The feeling swelled, in his chest this time, warming his fingers and the tip of his ears. His heart was still pounding frantically, seemingly unable to calm down. All of Hux’s senses were intensely aware that Kylo was still there and it suddenly made him angry.

 

But no. They were done. Back to duty. The General brought his anger under control, brow smoothing until his face once again showed indifference and he sat up, rolled his tense shoulders, and reached for the bedside table.

 

“Hux…” Ren began, and Hux growled warningly. He grabbed his pack of cigarettes and quickly lit up one, biting around it and levelling a dirty look on Ren when a few puffs did not have the expected calming effect.

 

“Leave,” he ordered around an exhalation.

 

“But—”

 

“We’re done. Leave.”

 

Ren sat up stiffly and glared at Hux, who ignored him in favor of offering Millicent his own blood-stained fingers. The cat sniffed them, decided they were to her liking and started licking at the blood. Her tongue was raspy, sending tingles up Hux’s arm, and he tried to focus on that rather than letting his ears follow the sound of clothing rustling over skin.

 

The stomp of boots alerted him that Ren was fully dressed again and he looked up momentarily, meeting dark eyes that were still unexplainably bright.

 

“Until next time, General,” said Ren primly, and Hux nodded. He blew out a puff of silvery smoke and looked down at Millie again.

 

Footsteps. They stopped by the door and no hissing sound announced the opening of said door. A minute passed, during which General and Knight deliberately did not look at each other.

 

“I still hate you too.” Ren’s voice seemed to be going for a growl, but there was a soft edge to it. It must have been the bruising on his throat.

 

And that was it. The door hissed open, then closed. Hux found himself staring at the grey panel, a cat’s tongue rasping over his fingers, blood cooling on his skin. His body was sated, but his mind was whirling. The heat – the _hate_ – in his chest finally seemed to settle.

 

For now.

 

Tomorrow, Ren would be the same annoying shit as ever and Hux would have to deal with his tantrums while giving out orders and filling paperwork. They would be stressed, violent and hateful towards each other. They might meet up later and fuck. They might not.

 

Nothing had changed.

 

(But for that unsettling feeling that something had.)

**Author's Note:**

> Find sinfullucifer on: http://coffeetwosugars.tumblr.com/


End file.
